


Matchmaker

by twopinkcarnations



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Angst, Existential Crisis, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, Love Confessions, Matchmaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 04:04:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12357066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twopinkcarnations/pseuds/twopinkcarnations
Summary: Michael plays matchmaker. Though his technique leaves much to be desired, he gets good results!





	Matchmaker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [einfachsein](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=einfachsein).



> Inspired by this wonderful tumblr post!
> 
> http://einfachsein.tumblr.com/post/166108253580/so-i-just-saw-the-new-the-good-place-episode-and

“Alright, I have to ask,” Michael begins.

He turns on the couch to face Eleanor and closes his philosophy book shut with disinterest as soon as Chidi left the room. Eleanor’s head tips to the side.

“Shoot.”

“You’ve been paired with both Chidi and Tahani with great success. You’re welcome, by the way. But I’m just not seeing it this time around.”

Eleanor thinks long and hard about it. He made a fair point. And it was something she had been trying not to think about ever since they teamed up with Michael.

“I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to fall in love with someone when you’re trying to keep hundreds of blood-thirsty demons from finding out about your secret ethics lessons.”

Michael nods.

“I suppose that’s fair,” he says.

Eleanor finds her thoughts wandering. She wishes she could remember what it was like to find happiness with either of her new friends. On earth, she had been openly bisexual, so it made sense that her afterlife was no different. They both seemed like really awesome people too.

“I wish I could remember the other 801 attempts.”

“Oh, your tiny human brain wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

Her brows furrow.

“What do you mean?”

“In earth metrics, you’ve been here approximately 368 years.”

Eleanor jumps up from the couch as though burned.

“Holy forking shirt balls!”

“What just happened?” Chidi asks upon entering the room with novels in hand.

“I merely told her that you’ve been in the Bad Place for approximately 368 earth years.”

“Oh my god.”

Chidi drops to the couch like a stone.

“I have to sit down,” he says.

“You are sitting,” Michael says.

“Then maybe I need to sit down even more!” Chidi says.

“Didn’t you say you planned to torture us for 1,000 years?” Eleanor asks.

“That was the original plan. Before you four forked it all up.”

“Jesus.”

She sits next to Chidi on the couch, and he reaches out for her hands. Michaels watches them clutch each other, completely unaware that they were playing out a scenario they had already lived through a dozen times before. Michael knew he was no Cupid—that guy was a real prick—but obviously the universe wanted them to be together. And what better way was there to bring humans together than by reminding them of the ceaseless passage of time?

“You two obviously have a lot to catch up on,” Michael says. “I’ll be in my office if you two need anything.”

He stands, but they don’t seem to notice. Or maybe they don’t care. He certainly doesn’t. He vanishes from the living room, and all Chidi does is squeeze Eleanor’s hands between his.

“368 years.”

“That’s—that’s a long time, huh?” Chidi stutters.

Eleanor nods and says, “Yup.”

“Sometimes I forget we’re actually dead.”

She turns a little bit to look at him better.

“Me too,” she confesses.

“There’s no one alive on earth who knew me.”

“Stop it, Chidi.”

“Literally, my whole family is just as dead as I am.”

“Stop talking.”

“What if they’re also in the Bad Place? What if they’re being punished because of me?”

“Chidi, stop!” Eleanor yells.

It’s enough to stun him into silence for a moment.

“You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry. I just got so carried away, and I—”

“Oh for fork’s sake…”

Eleanor uses the oldest trick in the book: kissing someone to shut them up. And she knows it’s working because she feels him instantly relax into her. All the tension suddenly seeps out of his muscles and bones as he focuses only on his mouth on hers. It feels amazing. It feels like being alive again, and Eleanor wonders why they waited so long to do this.

She laughs.

“What’s so funny?”

“I almost just asked you why we hadn’t done this before, but—”

“But we already have.”

“Exactly!”

She doesn’t wait for him to say anything else. She goes right back to kissing him until she gets the idea to tip him backwards onto the couch. Eleanor rests herself between his legs, and she pulls away panting.

“Is this okay?” she asks.

“Yes. Absolutely yes.”

And there’s no trace of his usual hesitancy in his voice, so she goes back to kissing him. And she knows he’s getting super into it by the way he moans into her mouth and grinds up against her.

“El…”

“Oh, you like that?”

“You know I do.”

“You know how I know?” she asks.

“I can think of a few indicators.”

“Your glasses are all fogged up,” she answers. Carefully she takes them off his face and places them on the coffee table. “It’s not even like you really need them.”

He responds by sticking his hands in her back pockets so he can grip her ass and pull her closer in to him. She moans in his ear.

“Turnabout is fair pl—”

“I got it, I got it!” she says.

Quickly, she sits up, and Chidi hopes it’s not because she’s decided to call it quits. Even though he’s pretty sure they’re all dead, a certain part of him wasn’t acting like it. And he really hoped Eleanor was still into this whole soulmates thing.

“Can you believe I still wear a bra in the afterlife?” she says, tossing off her shirt and it.

Chidi’s jaw drops.

“Okay, wow.”

“Now _that’s_ what I like to hear! Show me yours!”

They’re clumsy and hurried, but eventually they both strip the rest of the way down until they’re naked in front of each other for the first (or is it the fifteenth?) time.

“Chidi, nice! Up top!”

She holds up a hand for a high-five, which he embarrassedly meets with a satisfying snap.

“Jeez, dude, like I’m impressed.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Sorry,” she says. “I just have this whole student-teach fantasy, and you’re basically like the hottest teacher I’ve ever had, and—”

This time, he kisses her to shut her up. And he presses her backwards onto the couch.

And honestly?

She’s kind of even more turned on, if that was even possible. 

“Chidi, I need—”

“Yes, yeah. Let’s—Condom?”

“Chidi, think about what you just said.”

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure I can’t get pregnant in the afterlife.”

Chidi snorts.

“Oh god. I didn’t even.”

And Eleanor can’t help but join him in laughing at the absurdity of it all. Not just his concerns for safe sex after death, but _all_ of it. Of dying and rebooting and magic trains and freelance demons and omnipotent robot women.

“I’m glad I have you here to live through all this stuff,” she says.

“Yeah,” he chokes. “Me too…Can—Can I?”

“Yeah, god, please. Please, Chidi, _I—!_ Oh fork!”

“Fork, fork, fork, this is. This is like,” he stammers.

“Whoa.”

They don’t have much to say, but Eleanor thrills when he pants her name into her neck right before he comes. She holds him tightly to her with sweaty thighs that strain to keep up with him. He was so forking perfect. And she wants to remember. She doesn’t want to forget a single second of this moment. She wants all those other moments back now. Now, now, now!

“I think I love you,” he breathes.

It’s the final push she needed. And it swims through her blood stream from her heart to her head to her toes and her teeth. Every part of her sings, and this has to be the Good Place, right? Anywhere Chidi was was the Good Place, wasn’t it? That had to be it. That had to be.

“It has to be. It has to be you,” she murmurs. “It has to be.”

He picks up her hand and kisses her palm and her wrist.

“What was that?” he asks.

“It has to be you,” she repeats. “I love you too.”

“Really?” he asks, excitement like a puppy bursting over his face.

She nods her head rapidly.

“Yeah. _Yes._ I love you.”

Eleanor doesn’t know how long they lie like that, on the couch in her living (ha) room in the boiling hot afterglow, but eventually the precariousness of their situation slips back into their consciousness.

“Michael might come in and see us,” Chidi says.

Eleanor waves a dismissive hand.

“He already knows.”

Chidi grins crookedly.

“I guess that’s true, but that doesn’t mean I want him to see my bare butt, and then that’s all he can think about when I need him to focus on Kant.”

Eleanor snorts.

“Kant.”

“Come on. We gotta get dressed.”

He tugs on her hand until she sits up, sore in all the best places. They eventually locate all their discarded items and put them on. Chidi calls Janet and asks her to get Michael for them so they can finish their lesson for the day.

Michael walks in with his hand over his eyes and his other arm outstretched as though to keep himself from bumping into things.

“Is okay for me to come in now?”

Eleanor rolls her eyes.

“Yes, dummy. We’ve still got a lesson to finish.”

Michael smirks and joins them in the living room. He gives the couch a wary eye.

“Really, Michael?” she says, exasperated.

Michael shrugs and sits.

“I don’t really care. I just can’t shake the habit of trying to wheedle a reaction out of you all.”

“Well, I guess we can’t be too angry,” Chidi says. “I think the reactions today where all pleasant, on the whole.”

Michael hooks a thumb at Chidi while looking at Eleanor.

“Your boyfriend has a dirty mind.”

“Because I said ‘on the who—’ Yeah. I hear it now.” Eleanor snorts. “Can we, uh, get back to the lesson now before I die, again, of shame?”

“Yeah, come on, Michael. Let the professor do his thing.”

Michael shakes his head and opens his book once more.

“Humans.”

**Author's Note:**

> I promise to fix any typos tomorrow when it's not two o'clock in the morning!


End file.
